"You can cut all the flowers,

but you cannot keep Spring from coming."

Pablo Neruda

She started her early mornings by overlooking her garden. Vines weaved themselves up the moss kissed bricks of her outside walls, stones paved her path into her nature filled abyss. Her kingdom was filled with everything a young witch would need: chamomile, holly, roses, in abundance and more. Sakura Haruno was proud of her special haven; it was a young witches absolute dream. She was very, very good at keeping her plants soaked with life.

A witch was no good if she couldn't even keep life in a flower.

She was a living embodiment of Spring. Her cherry blossom soaked hair laid straight just past her shoulders, accented with a proper placed crimson bow sitting on the top of her head. She was told that red complimented her nature filled eyes, and since then she never was without the color. Her knitted turtleneck was a matching red, though a bit oversized, messily tucked into a black skirt. On this particular day, she carried a tanned bag across her torso.

On her forehead, almost blanketed by a thick swoop of bangs, rested a diamond shaped lilac kiss.

Sakura kept growing life in her garden since she was ten years old. Now, at thirteen, she was at the prime age for a young witch to challenge herself.

Stopping in place as her jade eyes locked on a not-so-perfect rose, the little witch frowned. It was completely wilted, which stuck out in its entirely against the bright, flawless red petals surrounding it. Negligence.

Her hands hovered over the pitifully wilted rose, willing the energy inside her to reach out to touch its browned stem and blackened petals. Her magic was like a pulse, centering from deep within her, flowing through her as she commanded. The young witch's jade eyes seemed to glitter once she saw the blush of the petals beginning to swell with their previous beauty; healing taking form. She allowed a little proud grin to decorate her expression as she stepped back to observe the once wilted rose resume its perfect place amongst the other healthy blooms.

"There," She breathed with a matter-of-fact nod.

Sakura continued on her way down her stoned path, past the gate, turned left once she was past the bakery, continue through until the edge of town, then carried on until she began to see hints of ruin and moss covered debris. Her eyes lifted to the untouched open gates, where the trees were so tall they blocked the sun. Ahead, eerily still under the tree's shadows, stood a manor. It looked untouched, forgotten, abandoned, but still the Spring-colored witch approached. It was as if she was stepping into a dusty painting; the scene before her was practically null of any color, only dull tones that were left behind after years and years of resting in a state of tragic desolate.

The little witch didn't bother to knock; she pushed the unnecessarily tall doors open with a small huff, allowing them to heavily close behind her once she entered.

"I'm back," She'd call into the seemingly absent space. With a wave of her petite hand, the candles that decorated the pathways lit up with rows of small flames. Though no voice responded to her, she carried on as if there was a voice to follow, up the wide staircase that creaked with age under her feet. The corridor meeting her at the top of the stairs seemed near endless with doors on each side, in perfect symmetry as she looked straight ahead. One could spend hours looking beyond each door, but Sakura knew her destination like muscle memory: the fourth door, on the left.

She peered into the room, her head first before she stepped in. On the bed laid the shell of a man, laying over the sheets in gentle perfection. The witch approached, digging into her tan bag before stopping just at his bedside. "I brought your medicine," Even as she spoke, the man didn't move. He, too, was a part of this dusty and forgotten painting left behind. Though, she doubted anyone could paint someone as lovely as he. "You're looking better," She mused as she pulled out a vile, "I think treatment is working. Any day now, you'll wake up."

When she first stumbled upon him, nearly a month prior, his skin was cracked and aged, paper thin, like a wall with peeling wallpaper. What was left of his body clung to his bones. Yet, she knew he was alive.
With careful movements, she opened the vile in her hand (his 'medicine') and reached over his slightly parted mouth. His skin still looked dry, but it too, like the roses in her garden, was swelling with life. Slowly, granted, but the change was apparent. Deep red liquid was left on the man's cracked lips that did little to hide a pair of sharp fangs, and Sakura looked proud. "I brought you a gift, too," She announced as she placed the vile back into her bag, then pulled out a small woven bag made of cotton on his bedside table, "It's an Onyx stone. It'll help ward off evil things. I charmed it myself; it'll protect you while I'm gone, until tomorrow."

Tomorrow came, and the little witch dropped her bag with a loud 'thump' when she entered the man's room.

The room looked the same as it had yesterday and the days before; dusty, dark and unwelcoming, yet for the first time there was a very apparent difference between then and now:

He was gone.

The little girl paused for a moment, contemplating what to do. He was gone, gone! As if she was convinced her eyes were simply deceiving her, she stepped over her dropped bag and approached the bedside as she normally would, inspecting the absent silhouette. All she found was a clear outline where he had been for so long. She found the little void a bit relatable; she felt a sort of absence from the sight, too. She had come here for so long, what if he didn't need her healing anymore?

Her thoughts clearly weren't prioritized, focusing more on her loneliness than the fact that there was a grown Vampire somewhere about. A Vampire who clearly had been unable due to starvation from leaving his 'humble' abode in, at the least, decades. A Vampire who was still, probably, starved, yet well enough to move. The little witch didn't sense the danger, at least, not soon enough; those thoughts of danger were secondary.

As if on cue with her sudden thoughts of the calculated danger, the pinkette slowly turned to look over her shoulder when she heard the buckle from the strap of her bag clink against the floor.

...She found him.

Green eyes wide, she stared at the pale, scrawny yet handsome man in the doorway. His hair was displaced, mostly hanging over half his face, on the left side. In his hand, which she noticed second (another example of her priorities being a little off), was her little vile of 'medicine'. His eyes were hungry, dark, yet familiar. They reminded her of something.

"T-That's for you," She managed through a small voice, "I brought it for you..."

His eyes, void of anything besides hunger, locked onto her small frame at the sound of her voice. His jaw was clenched, she noticed. Due to pain? She wasn't sure, but her chest ached with concern.

The little witch's knees shook as she took a step to fully face him. The movement made the man narrow his eyes, watching her, tracking her. Like prey, she thought with a gulp. Yet, still, she continued towards him. "I filled the vile with a bit of my blood. I-I'm a witch, so it'll help you faster than regular human or animal blood. I-It's charmed, too, to heal your body faster... I-I'm sorry, it's probably not enough to satisfy you, b-but I wasn't sure if the blood would've been too strong to handle in your state. I-I also wasn't sure if I had done the charm correctly, so I wanted to...to slowly see if it was working. B-but, I-I think it is! You're much stronger n-now than before... And-"

"Shut up."

The instinct of caution and defense rose within her at the sound of his gruff unused voice, didn't even move, but just stared at her. Feeling her breathing hitch, she took a step back only to be met by the side of his bed. Unbalanced, she sat where he had been laying for decades. The girl was now holding her breath.

With slow, rigid movements, the man opened the vile and lifted it to his irritably dry mouth. It was the little witch's turn to stare now, watching as he finished the contents inside. He even paused when all of it was out, to make sure every single drop was consumed.

He released a quiet, slow sigh after. Sakura translated this as relief, and shakily resumed her own breathing. The silence between them grew, awkward and apparent, as she kept herself deathly still. Surely, by now, if he wanted her to be dead, he would've done so already. She swallowed again to moisten her nervous throat. She felt her pulse like crashing waves against her chest. "Can I come back tomorrow?"

When he didn't respond, she hesitantly stood, then scampered past him with a sudden burst of adrenaline, leaving behind her bag. She was gone, until tomorrow.

It wasn't until she was already out the door when she realized what his eyes reminded her of.

Onyx.

Thank you for reading!

I had a lot of fun with this one. I saw a piece of fanart with a witch Sakura and vampire Sasuke and couldn't resist.

If you like, please also leave a review. I really appreciate ideas and feedback and encouragement. 3

(人´∀`)ありがとー

Note: The title is somewhat of a pun in Japanese. It translates to "Spring Witch", but when spoken out loud, it is "Haru No Majo". Sakura's family name in Japanese is "Haruno", written as 春野. That's why I chose this title, because both are spoken as "Haruno".